


Come To Me In My Dreams

by Ribbons_Undone



Series: Dream World [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:41:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24625660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ribbons_Undone/pseuds/Ribbons_Undone
Summary: Cas always comes to him in his dreams. This time Dean finds he doesn’t mind so much.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Dream World [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1784737
Comments: 9
Kudos: 57





	Come To Me In My Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> ** Title taken from the poem: _Longing_ by Matthew Arnold
> 
> A/N: So this poem is incidentally printed on the wrapper for the Almond Butter flavor of Chocolove… (seriously, it’s the best you should all try it) The poem has some personal weight to it so... I felt the need to throw it at something. 
> 
> There was really none other than Destiel for this one. So here it is, folks. Enjoy. ;)

* * *

_Come to me in my dreams, and then_

_By day I shall be well again!_

_For so the night will more than pay_

_The hopeless longing of the day._

_Come, as thou cam’st a thousand times,_

_A messenger from radiant climes,_

_And smile on thy new world, and be_

_As kind to others as to me!_

\-- Excerpt from _Longing_ by Matthew Arnold

* * *

_Come To Me In My Dreams_

The sun played with the ripples of the lake where Dean sat out on the weathered wooden dock, a fishing pole between his knees and a six pack by his feet. Was it the sun, or was it the water playing with the sun’s rays, spreading its warm fingers across the cool surface of the lake just as it splayed its palm against Dean’s cheek? All Dean knew was that he felt relaxed in that skin-heavy way and never wanted it to end.

“Your dreams are…predictable.”

Dean sighed. He didn’t need to turn around to see who had interrupted this beautiful day. Really, he should expect it by now.

“You’re scaring away the fish, Cas,” he said, flippant with just a dusting of annoyance.

“There are no fish, Dean. This is a dream.”

“Then you’re scaring away all the dream fish. I had a whole dream sushi buffet planned for later, but that’s up in smoke now, thanks to you.”

“In that case…I apologize for the interruption,” Cas said. Dean turned just in time to see the angel looking away from him. He seemed…uneasy.

“Why are you here, Cas?” Dean asked. He set the pole down. It wasn’t as if the dream fish were biting anyhow.

“I…felt the urge to come here,” Cas replied. He glanced at Dean, then away again.

Dean blinked slowly, trying to understand what he meant by that. But it was Cas, and it could mean a thousand different things, or it could mean exactly what he’d said.

“Why?” Dean asked.

Again that sidelong glance, and then Cas was staring out at the sun-dappled waters. “I can see why you enjoy this setting. It is very peaceful.” He hadn’t answer Dean’s question, but he decided not to push it for now.

“Yeah,” Dean said instead, following his gaze out to the opposite shore, where green leaves ruffled in the soft breeze. “Yeah, it is.” _And the company isn’t half bad either,_ he felt himself thinking, despite himself.

Cas looked at him suddenly in surprise.

“I thought my presence here displeased you,” the angel said.

Dean blinked, and it took him a second to figure out what Cas was talking about.

“Oh come on, seriously? You can read my thoughts too?” Dean sighed loudly. “That’s just not fair, man.”

“It was indecent of me,” Cas replied quickly, “My apologies. I will attempt to not…read your thoughts in here.” He looked away again, looking slightly pained. As if omnipresence was a burden.

“It’s fine, Cas, you just took me by surprise,” Dean said. “So? What’s up?” When Cas looked skyward, Dean sighed. “I mean, was there a reason you came?” he reiterated.

“Oh. No, not particularly.” Cas paused. The uneasy look from before was back. Dean’s breath caught in his chest, and yeah, this was his dream and all, but at the same time it _wasn’t_. Or was it?

Dean didn’t want to answer that question quite yet, so instead he reached down and grabbed a bottle of beer, knocking the cap off with the knife he kept in his pocket. He reached for another and held this one out to Cas.

“Drink?” he offered.

When Cas took the bottle from him, his fingers brushed against Dean’s, sending an electric thrill up his arm. Dean took a long dreg from his own bottle to hide his reaction.

Cas stood by his shoulder, staring out at the water, then up towards the brilliant blue sky. A few puffy clouds coasted by—lazy, cottony pillows.

“So. The world’s not on fire for once. This is nice, right?” Dean said conversationally. He positioned his fishing pole under his boot, where he could grab it should a fish decide to bite. Not that dream fish ever did. It was part of the illusion of this place. Like the angel standing by his side sharing a cold one. This sort of thing could never happen in the real world…could it?

“It’s a very nice dream,” Cas replied. He took a sip from the bottle in his hand. His lips puckered at the taste and he stared at the bottle curiously, perhaps trying to decide if he liked it or not. When he took another, longer sip, Dean figured it must not have been too bad.

They stood in companionable silence for a long while, drinking and staring out across the water. The tip of Dean’s pole bobbed with the waves, kicked up by the soft breeze coming off the opposite shore. Dean stared at it, lulled into complacency.

“This… _drink_ is having a curious effect on me,” Cas said suddenly, breaking the silence. Dean glanced up at him. He was peering again at the beer bottle, blinking and squinting at it as if it had grown out of his hand.

Dean laughed, the sound of it clean like bells ringing out over the water.

“It’s a dream. Let’s just say it doesn’t normally do that,” he said, giving Cas a wide, lopsided grin. To his surprise, Cas returned it, his pale lips spreading across his face.

They fell back into silence, drinking and soaking up the sun and the wind and the smell of grass. The beer was definitely going to Dean’s head, but this was a good dream, so his buzz had him feeling light and carefree and playful, his senses sharpened and enhanced.

And _damn_ did Castiel look beautiful standing in the mid-morning sun, the soft wind playing with the short strands of his hair.

The angel turned to look at him, his eyes focused and intense—eyebrows pitched slightly together. Dean had no doubt he had heard that thought, but for some reason _he didn’t care_. This was a dream, after all, and it was _his_ and Cas here in it, thereby, was _his_.

It was dream-beer logic, but it felt right.

Dean set the bottle down and stood up, moving toward the celestial being still gazing intently at him with eyes the same dark-light swirling blue as the water before them.

Dean took the bottle from Cas’s hand and set it down as well.

Cas just watched. Watched as he straightened and watched as Dean took his face between his hands, and watched as Dean tried to control the surge of desire that flooded through his veins.

Perhaps dream-beer had been the wrong call, but then, when in Rome—

He closed the short space between them and pressed his lips against Castiel’s mouth.

Cas didn’t respond, and Dean felt that low lurch in his gut telling him he’d made the wrong call. He pulled back, dropping his hands from Cas’s face and turned away, feeling ashamed and guilty for what he’d done.

Then Cas grabbed his hands and pulled him in close.

This time their lips crashed together and Cas’s mouth parted open. Dean slipped his tongue over the welcoming threshold and groaned, one hand coming up to cup the back of Cas’s neck. As he moved his lips, his fingers played with the short strands of the angel’s dark-brown hair.

Cas pulled back, breathing heavily. “Dean,” he said, voice low and gravely, and _so damn sexy_ that Dean just wanted to—

“Shut up, Cas and kiss me,” Dean said, pulling him back in.

It was a dream—he knew it was a dream—but at the same time it wasn’t.

Cas pulled back again.

“So,” he said, grinning slightly. “This is what you dream about.”

Dean laughed, the corners of his bright green eyes crinkling in his mirth.

“Hey,” he said, “you’re the one who crashed _my_ party. I’m just making do with what I’ve got.”

As soon as he said it, Cas’s face dropped. Dean’s smile faded instantly.

“Sorry, Cas, that’s not—” He broke off, trying again for the truth. “I didn’t mean it that way. I was joking. I’m glad you’re here.”

“You’re sure?” Cas asked. He seemed uneasy again. “You spoke the truth. I did come here…against your will.”

Dean snorted.

“Cas, when have I _ever_ done anything against my will?”

“Well—” the angel frowned. “You have a point.”

“I know.” Dean grinned at him, and kissed him slowly. When they broke apart, Dean tried again to get a coherent answer out of him. “Why did you really come here, Cas?” he asked.

“I wanted…I felt…” Cas looked away, blushing a little. “I heard you calling me.”

“Well, yeah, on the _phone_ ,” Dean replied. “A dozen times. I don’t know why I bother.”

“It’s not my strongest area,” Cas admitted. “But no, that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?” Dean asked.

“I heard your spirit…calling me here to you,” Castiel confessed.

“Wait. What?” Dean blurted.

“I felt your longing for me,” the angel said, “So I came.”

There it was—that uneasy look, and suddenly it all made sense.

Dean took a step back.

“Woah, hey, hang on,” he said, holding up his hands, “If you’re here to do me a favor, man, trust me, I’m good.”

“Why would you assume it like that?” Castiel asked, brow furrowing. He seemed almost…insulted.

“Well, look, if you think—I don’t need you to—you know what? Never mind. Fuck this shit.” Dean shook his head, turning away. He tucked his hands under his armpits, his face burning. Because if he didn’t he was going to sock Cas straight in that smug, pretty-boy accountant face of his.

“Dean, you’re angry,” Cas stated.

Dean let out a frustrated growl and rolled his eyes. He was still turned away from Cas, which helped. He couldn’t stand to look at him at the moment.

“I don’t understand, Dean. What have I done to upset you?” Cas asked. He sounded lost, listless, pathetic. Dean ground his teeth, hating himself for feeling for the guy even now when he was so pissed at him.

“I wish to know what I have done wrong…” Cas’s voice was soft and filled with regret. “I thought coming here was what you wanted of me.”

Dean shook his head, not knowing where to start. So, instead he laughed and shrugged it off.

“You know, for an angel of God you can be a real _dick_ ,” he said.

“So you’ve said,” Cas replied, “On multiple occasions.”

He felt the angel step closer, saw the hand reaching out for him out of the corner of his eye, but Dean was adamant on glaring out at the perfect _fucking_ lake on this perfect _fucking_ day in this _fucking perfect_ dream that Cas had ruined.

“Dean,” Cas said softly.

“Cas, drop it,” Dean said in a steely voice.

The angel’s hand fell away. He sighed.

“I am trying to understand what you are feeling.”

“I’m feeling pissed,” Dean snapped at him.

“I know,” Cas said. “But I don’t understand the reason why.”

Dean turned around to face him, his gaze hard and unrelenting. His words, when next spoken, were biting and bitter.

“You really want to know?” he spat. At Cas’s nod, Dean dropped his arms and stepped up to him, jabbing a finger into his chest. “I’m pissed because you just don’t _get_ it. You don’t _get_ what it’s like to be human. You sit up in heaven on your holier-than-thou high-horse _bullshit_ and you order us around like _lab rats—_ and then you show up _here_ , in _my dream_ like you actually _give a shit_!”

By the end of his little rant, Dean had his fist twisted around Cas’s necktie, their noses almost touching.

“I…apologize if I seemed distant,” Cas said, and for once the words didn’t roll easily off his tongue. “Dean, I do care about you. That’s why I’m trying to help you and Sam, and why I came here tonight.”

Dean untwisted his hand, letting Cas go. He took a step back and a deep breath.

“I know,” he said, short and steeled. “But caring and letting me kiss you because you think it’s what I want…” Dean broke off, shaking his head.

“Is that why you are angry?” Cas asked, sounding surprised, “You don’t think I wanted to?”

“Well I—” Dean broke off, lost for words. “ _Do_ you?”

Cas stepped in close to him, bringing a hand to his cheek.

“If it helps to know…yes, I do,” Cas said. “I kissed you because _I_ wanted to. I came tonight because _I_ wanted to see you. I wanted to be here with you, in this place where you are…happy, because I find you beautiful and complicated and…a little infuriating.” Here Cas’s lips twitched upward in mirth—a smile not quite trying to be a smile. “And for some strange reason…I find myself liking that about you.”

He expected Dean to smile when he confessed his feelings like this, but really Dean just looked more lost than before, and rather like he wanted to either run away or cry than believe the truth in his words.

His beautiful, complicated, _infuriating_ human looked away.

“I don’t think I can do this, Cas,” Dean said. His golden skin was pink with embarrassment. The clash of color fascinated him. “I’m not that great,” he continued, “And I’m not some chick gonna fall in love and run off into the sunset or…or whatever. I’m just not that guy, and chances are in a few months I’ll be dead, or you’ll be dead, or—”

“It’s okay, Dean,” Cas said, turning the man’s face back to meet his gaze. “I’m not a human. I didn’t come here with expectation. I came because I felt your longing, and I wanted to be here with you in this beautiful place. It doesn’t have to be anything more than that.” This time, the smile on his face was pale and soft, like his lips.

“Good cuz…I’m not some damsel in distress. I don’t need you swooping in to save my ass,” Dean clarified.

“I promise not to swoop,” Cas said. This time he full-on grinned, wide and bright and playful. “Now, may I kiss you again?”

Dean’s mouth dropped open a little, dazed by the brilliance of that smile, by the beauty of the being before him, and nodded.

He realized later it was the first time Cas full-out lied to him.

Because he _did_ swoop. He swooped down and planted a soft, wet kiss against Dean’s plush and sculpted lips, and sucked up his longing like he was drinking it down with a straw.

And later—much later after Dean woke from his dream, the lingering brightness of Cas’s lips against his carried him through the darkness of his day.

* * *

_Or, as thou never cam’st in sooth,_

_Come now, and let me dream it truth_

_And part my hair, and kiss my brow,_

_And say, My love why sufferest thou?_

_…For so (this) night will more than pay_

_The hopeless longing of the day._

_Fin._

**Author's Note:**

> I will probably write a sequel but for now, this is it. My first dabble into Destiel, so I'm not sure I've got the dynamic pinned down yet. Hope you all liked it. :)


End file.
